The Problem Client Read online

  Kaz immediately starts laughing. “Man, I did not think of that.”

  Damien shrugs helplessly. “Well, what do you want to be called?”

  Kaz frowns. “I dunno. Ask Jake. Or Liam maybe. It feels weird to give myself a pet’s name.”

  Damien thinks maybe he understands a little, but he can’t help feeling amused at that anyways. As if Kaz was Jake’s or Liam’s pet. He can imagine Liam’s reaction to that.

  “I could just tell him,” Kaz adds, and Damien raises an eyebrow at him.

  “Are you sure?” Damien asks, and Kaz nods.

  “Yeah,” he says, “He’ll be around a lot anyways, and it’s not like a huge secret or anything.”

  Damien wonders if that’s really true, since Kaz seemed so reluctant to tell them all in the first place, but he shrugs.

  “Alright,” Damien says. “It’s up to you.”

  Kaz looks thoughtful at this, but then nods, and goes back to refilling the pastry display.

  “What’s it like?” Damien asks eventually, and Kaz looks surprised at the question.

  “Being a shifter?” Kaz asks, and Damien nods.

  “I dunno,” Kaz says. “I can usually tell if other people are shifters.” He taps his nose. “My sense of smell is really good, too.”

  Damien’s eyes widen. “So do you actually have cat-like reflexes?”

  Kaz shakes his head, laughing. “Nah, not really unless I’m in cat form. There are just a few little things. Like, I also have a great metabolism, and I can see really well in the dark!”

  That sounds pretty useful, Damien thinks, but he doesn’t push Kaz any further.

  “Anyways, you’re meeting with your client again tonight, right?” Kaz asks, changing the subject entirely as he finishes refilling the pastry case. Damien feels his face heat. He nods.

  Kaz laughs. “Looking forward to it, are we?” he says, and he tilts his head back in a grin as he stands. It’s a little flirtatious, but Damien’s starting to realize that Kaz just flirts with everyone like that.

  “I am,” Damien says, honestly, and Kaz winks at him.

  “What made you stop taking clients anyways?” Kaz asks, after a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

  Damien feels his mouth twist into a frown, but the question itself doesn’t really bother him. Just the memories it brings up. “I had law school debt,” he says, slowly. “I did a year of it and dropped out. Took clients for a few years...” He trails off. A flourish of his hands to encompass the café. “But it’s all paid off now, actually. So I don’t really need the work anymore.”

  Kaz looks Damien up and down, considering, “Law school, huh?”

  “Business law,” Damien says, even though Kaz didn’t ask, and he doesn’t really want to think about it anymore. “And what about you?”

  Kaz looks a little embarrassed, but he brought it on himself with the initial question. “Ah, I guess I’m sort of an artist,” Kaz admits, and it’s the first time he’s sounded self-conscious about anything. “I do set design and shit for theater productions, too, but there’s not a lot of consistent work.”

  “An… artist?” Damien says the word like it’s in a language he doesn’t speak, and Kaz laughs.

  “What, I don’t look like an artist to you?” Kaz tilts his head back in a way that’s all confidence now, belying his earlier attitude.

  Damien wipes the counter down. “You should show me your work sometime,” he says, honestly curious.

  Kaz deflates a bit at that, “Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Hey, I’m going to take these back to Jake and the grumpy blonde.” He gestures towards the empty trays and winks at Damien. Damien rolls his eyes.

  Damien wants to ask more about what Kaz’s story is. What was he doing before working at Café Seuil? Why did he and Jake both decide to join Café Seuil? But instead he pushes the metal cart towards Kaz. “Alright,” Damien says.

  He watches Kaz leave, sure there’s got to be more to the story than what he’s said.

  Chapter Nine

  For the first time since their last session, Damien is starting to think that asking for Ty’s name was a bad idea.

  Everything feels more intense tonight, somehow. Ty is behind him on the bed, balls-deep inside him and sliding out slowly. Damien is groaning, his whole body shaking with the pleasure. Ty already made him come once earlier, and his dick’s half soft but starting to perk up again with interest.

  Ty’s hands are gripping his hips, and Damien thinks there will definitely be bruises there tomorrow. The clients aren’t supposed to leave marks on them. Bad for business, of course. But Damien’s always sort of liked it when Ty did. And they usually faded by Monday anyways. Now it doesn’t matter if they fade at all.

  “Please,” Damien whines, and he’s not even sure what he’s begging for, because there’s no way he can even come again this soon.

  “You’re killing me, brat,” Ty groans, pushing into him again, all in one go.

  Damien cries out in some combination of pleasure and pain, but the pain is oh-so-sweet.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Ty says, and he bends over Damien’s body, pushing his thick cock into him again. Damien can barely hold up Ty’s weight, and his arms buckle beneath him, shifting the angle to something even more extreme. He hears a keening sound, and it’s coming from himself.

  Ty reaches around to touch his cock, and it’s too much, too sensitive, but he’s somehow hard again, and Damien can see stars behind his eyes when he comes this time. Ty’s coming soon afterwards, too, his grip relentless on Damien’s hips, and everything burns a little when Ty pulls out, and Damien feels boneless as he collapses down onto the bed.

  Ty strokes a hand down his back in a possessive way that Damien tries not to think too hard about. Damien rolls over onto his side, and there’s a mess in the sheets, but he doesn’t much care at this point.

  Ty follows him down, spooning behind him on the bed, muttering something into Damien’s neck, and Damien feels hot and cold all over with the realization that this is something new, and that usually Ty leaves right afterwards.

  “You’ve totally ruined me,” Ty says, and it’s barely audible, and it’s nearly a confession.

  Damien’s almost too tired to laugh, but he makes a breathy sound at that anyways, and Ty pushes himself up onto his elbow, peering down at him.

  “You laughing at me, brat?” he says, but the look he’s giving Damien is fond. Damien grins up at him, completely, inexplicably happy, and the expression must shock Ty because something new crosses his face. Something determined. The look’s too serious, and Damien feels uncertain all of a sudden.

  Ty bends down to kiss Damien on the forehead, and it’s almost too much to bear.

  “I can give you protection from whatever you’re running from,” Ty says, almost like he didn’t mean it, whispering it against Damien’s hair at the top of his skull, and Damien freezes.

  “What?” he asks, trying to scoot away, trying to get some distance, but Ty is holding him close.

  “Let me buy out your other contracts,” Ty says, instead of repeating what he had said earlier. It sounds apropos of nothing, and Ty’s looking him in the eyes now. “Whatever you need.”

  Damien splutters, really trying get out of Ty’s grip now. What is he some sort of damsel in distress? Ty’s fond look turns into one of confusion.

  “You couldn’t possibly,” Damien says, but he half-wonders if it is possible. Surely not. Surely even this client wouldn’t do something so irresponsible, so irrational. And besides, Damien doesn’t have any other clients anymore. But he hasn’t mentioned it, yet. He feels a little bad about it now, but he didn’t expect to get such a completely outrageous proposition.

  Ty is looking at him like he wants an answer, and Damien can’t even believe this man is serious. He shakes his head. “I’m not running from anything. I don’t owe anyone anything,” he says, completely factual if not 100% honest. “I just work here.”

  Ty looks like
he can’t accept that, and his face clouds with something. Anger? Frustration?

  He growls, pulling back from Damien, rolling off of him.

  Damien wants to tell him the entire truth then. There are no others. There are no contracts to buy out. But it’s been such a delicious source of tension between them. And what then? What would happen next, once he makes that confession?

  Would Ty still want to see him? What kind of game is this to him?

  Ty’s back is turned to him now, his muscles tense, and he’s absolutely gorgeous. Damien sighs, letting himself fall back onto the pillow again. It’s the name thing, he thinks. Asking Ty for his name last week ruined something, and he’s not sure how to fix it now. He probably shouldn’t bother. Ty seems too angry to talk anymore tonight.

  Ty is putting his clothes back on, without a word, and Damien thinks he really fucked up this time. He’s been leading Ty on, to what end Damien doesn’t even know himself. He wonders if he’ll even see Ty next week, and he almost says something to the effect, but he feels too tired all of a sudden to speak.

  He watches Ty go back through the door without saying goodbye.

  Damien leaves the room a mess and doesn’t even shower before stumbling back to his own room. He doesn’t want to be in there anymore. He’s confused about why Ty left. He’s mad at himself for letting this go on so long. He should have ended it sooner before it got weird. He had seen the signs that Ty was getting increasingly possessive, but how could he have imagined it turning into something like this? Why did Ty have to go and ruin everything with such a ridiculous proposal?

  When he steps into the hallway to make the walk back to his own room, he immediately regrets not putting on more clothes. Jake’s standing there, as if he stopped on his way to get something. His gaze trails down Damien’s body, and Damien knows what he probably looks like. Really well-fucked, to be precise.

  “Well hello there,” Jake says, and the look he gives Damien is nearly predatory. On any other day, Damien would make it into a joke of some sort, but he just doesn’t have the energy tonight.

  “Move it,” Damien says, and a hurt look crosses Jake’s face before it quickly turns to concern.

  “Hey, are you okay, man?” he asks, eyes scanning Damien’s body again as if he’s reconsidering the marks there.

  Damien nods, even though he’s probably not, and Jake looks half-skeptical, half-pissed. He crosses his arms. “Do I need to fuck this guy up?” he asks, and it’s so out of character that Damien nearly laughs. He chokes on a breath instead, a feeling like tears, and wouldn’t that just be stupid, if he started crying in the middle of the hallway, looking like this?

  “No,” Damien says, hating how breathy his voice sounds. “No, I’m fine.”

  Jake raises an eyebrow at him, but shrugs, relaxing a bit when he judges Damien to be serious enough. “Alright, dude, take it easy,” he says, letting Damien pass.

  Damien doesn’t make it very far, because of course Kaz is sitting on the couch, looking at him like he expected it to be Jake returning. When he sees it’s Damien and the state Damien’s in, his demeanor totally changes.

  Damien doesn’t want to talk to anyone else and tries to stalk past him, but Kaz hops over the back of the couch, dropping a gaming controller onto it with a, “Catch you later, dude.” The latter, presumably for Jake’s benefit, but Damien doesn’t stay out there long enough to hear if there’s a reply.

  Kaz follows Damien into Damien’s room, even when Damien throws his robe at him.

  “Gross,” Kaz says, tossing it aside. “You need to shower, man. You smell weird.”

  “Get out,” Damien says, throwing himself onto his bed dramatically and pressing his face into the pillows. He still feels like he wants to cry, and that would be the most stupid thing to do, and he doesn’t even know why he’d be crying in the first place. Over some client? A paycheck? He thinks, bitterly.

  “Bad date?” Kaz asks, and Damien’s a little glad Kaz hasn’t said anything about the cats on his comforter. There’s a really obvious joke in there, but he also really doesn’t feel very amusing tonight.

  “It wasn’t a date,” Damien mumbles into the pillow. “He’s just a client.”

  “Seems like you wanted it to be a date,” Kaz replies, and his tone is soft.

  Damien sighs, rolling over onto his back, not really caring how it looks. He and Kaz have literally fucked before, so it’s not like Kaz hasn’t already seen everything.

  Regardless, Kaz raises an eyebrow.

  “He marked you up good, didn’t he?” Kaz says, and he sounds nearly impressed. Damien huffs a soft laugh, and shrugs.

  Kaz sits down next to him and puts his hand on Damien’s hair, ruffling it in the way that Damien always wants to do to Liam. Damien splutters with indignation but Kaz just laughs.

  “Wow, you use a lot of product, bro,” he says, wiping his hand on his gym shorts. But he knows Kaz is teasing him, because he always makes sure his hair feels nice for this client.

  “Like you don’t.” Damien’s eyes definitely do not burn, and he turns his face away so he can’t see Kaz at all.

  “Nah, I’m naturally this beautiful,” Kaz says, but the joke falls a little flat. When Damien doesn’t reply, Kaz stands up again. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “What if I did?” Damien asks into his comforter, half-hoping Kaz can’t hear him. What if he did want it to be a date? What if he does want it to be more than a paycheck? What if he’s upset because he can’t let this client go, and now he feels like he messed everything up?

  “Just tell him,” Kaz says, understanding immediately, even if it’s out of context. “If it’s not going to work, better to know about it now.”

  Damien nods and hears his door shut, but doesn’t move for a long time. He thinks of how amazing everything was tonight before Ty’s weird declaration, how Damien still doesn’t even know what Ty does for work or what part of the city he lives in. Everything feels so superficial. He’s not sure how he could imagine that Ty would see it as anything more than a business transaction. Payment given for services received.

  After a little while longer of feeling sorry for himself, he concludes that it’s better to not think about it. Kaz is naive. He hasn’t been doing this as long as Damien has.

  Damien pushes himself up, taking in a deep breath. He can do this. He’ll just get ready for bed, go to sleep, get up for work tomorrow. Ty may or may not show up for their next session, but there’s no use worrying about it now. If he doesn’t show, it’s one less thing for Damien to worry about. Damien will just have to deal with each day as it comes.

  Chapter Ten

  Ty can’t stop thinking about the latest session with the brat. His brat. His fist nearly crumples the papers in his hands before he realizes what he’s doing and stops himself, setting them down on the grey leather front seat of his car.

  He’s gone back and forth on this decision all day, and he presses his forehead against the steering wheel. He just can’t stand this arrangement anymore. This has to end.

  He keeps hearing Damien’s words over and over in his mind. I just work here. It’s eating at him, those words. There’s something inside him that’s pacing in circles, demanding to be recognized. Howling.

  Damien just works there, taking other clients, and goddamnit, he knows this isn’t the best solution, but it’s a solution.

  The thing is, he’s known Melanie, the owner of Café Seuil, for years. On a few occasions, he’s helped her out, even. In a business like hers, sometimes she has requests that are on the wrong side of the law, and Ty’s the kind of guy that walks the edge of that line very carefully. There’s always been some sort of trade involved, but recently –

  Well, a few months ago, Ty was on his way to a bar downtown after a particularly rough business negotiation, and he was thinking that maybe he’d find a piece of nice ass while he was there. He’s never been the relationship sort of guy, and he can usually find a twink who likes it rough and can s
atisfy his urges for the nights when he really needs to stick it in someone. That sort of night.

  A few blocks from his destination, he found himself on an eerily empty street where the streetlights seemed dimmer than normal. He’s not the kind of guy that gets freaked out easily, but he felt the need to look over his shoulder a few times as he made his way down the block. And after one of those times where he looked over his shoulder to see nothing behind him, when he looked back ahead to the street in front of him, he noticed a door that he knew hadn’t been there the moment before. He stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t just any sort of door. It was an interior door. Like the sort of door you find when you’re about to walk into a hotel room.

  Well I’ll be damned, he thought, and found his hand on the handle before he even realized what he was doing. He knew about Melanie’s other business. The side business she ran out of the top part of the café building. But he had never experienced it firsthand. And he knew that anything witchy that happened in Portland was probably Melanie’s doing. He wondered briefly if this was some way of thanking him for something he didn’t remember doing, or if he was going to owe her one after this, or if maybe this was actually some sort of trap, but in that moment, he found that he didn’t particularly care. He turned the handle.

  Working with Melanie can sometimes feel a little bit too much like making a deal with a devil.

  After opening the door, he was unable to see anything inside at first, like a blurry haze covered the entryway, and thought, Fuck it, because it had been that sort of night, and something told him that if he walked through this door, everything was going to get a hell of a lot better.

  And boy was he glad he did.

  Lounging on a luxurious king bed was the most gorgeous man Ty had ever seen outside of some sort of magazine. Tall, thin with an athletic build. Long legs. Wearing nothing but black silk boxers and some sort of matching robe. Light brown hair and large green eyes that blinked at Ty curiously. The man might as well have been an underwear model, right out of the glossy pages.